Yeah. He Was a Good Boy.

I ducked under the twisted metal fence, its warning signs now faded. The containment zone looked nothing like I remembered from that day. Nature had reclaimed most of it - vines strangled the abandoned buildings, and moss carpeted what remained of the sidewalks.

Little Shit perched on my head, his tiny claws digging into my scalp as I crawled through a gap in the rubble.

"Watch the hair," I muttered, though I didn't really mind anymore. The weight had become comforting.

The air felt thick with ash, making my throat itch. Volcanic vents dotted the ground, spewing wisps of smoke. I checked my phone - the screen showed 11:58 AM. Right on schedule for the end of the world.

Punctual as ever, human.

The voice rumbled through my mind, sending ripples through puddles of murky water. I squinted through the haze until I spotted the Shibue Daikaiju looming ahead.

"So... How are we doing this? Do I just hand over Little Shit and you destroy everything, or...?"

The Daikaiju's head lowered until one red eye was level with mine, hot breath washing over me. Little Shit squeaked excitedly, but stayed put.

You've changed. There is no fear in your scent. Strange. All living things fear death when they know it approaches.

"What's there to be scared of?"

Because if it weren't for the world ending, I'd still be a boring part-timer saving up for Tokyo. But instead, I got to spend more time with Kurumi than I ever thought I would. I got to call Koyuki by her first name. I even got to know Sae. And Gran Gran? She actually started enjoying having the Furnace Kaiju heat up her morning tea.

Little Shit squeaked, probably remembering all the melon bread adventures.

The Daikaiju's massive form shook, a laugh that made pebbles dance across the ground.

Fascinating. In all my centuries, I've encountered countless beings facing their end. Warriors. Kings. Even other kaiju. All died clinging to regrets, to dreams unfulfilled. Yet here stands a simple human, finding joy in her own destruction. You truly are the most interesting thing I've come across.

Little Shit scrambled off my head and waddled to his dad, squeaking and flailing his stubby arms.

Has my child behaved appropriately during his stay?

I opened my mouth, ready to list every incident - stealing melon bread, the volcanic tantrums, the time he ate Gran Gran's shrine offerings.

But then I saw him bouncing around his dad's claws, proudly showing off his new armor plates...

"Yeah. He was a good boy."

Good. Any final words before we proceed?

I walked over to Little Shit and knelt down, meeting his unfocused gaze. Those derpy eyes that had watched me flip burgers at KaiKool, dozed through class, and caused chaos at every festival.

"Hey buddy." I scratched under his belly, right where he liked it. "Time for you to grow up into a big strong kaiju, okay? And maybe try eating something besides melon bread for once. Like vegetables. Or protein."

Little Shit tilted his head, confused.

"Don't pick fights with plastic anymore. It'll always win. And- and don't cause too many volcanic eruptions when you're upset..."

Everything blurred. I tried blinking away the tears, but they kept coming. I wiped my face with my costume sleeve - the same brown kaiju outfit Little Shit had refused to let me take off since day one.

I pulled out the wrinkled photo from my pocket.

"Here." I held it up to the Daikaiju's massive eye. "Could you... keep this?"

What purpose would such a minuscule object serve?

"Just... if Little Shit ever feels lonely, you can show him this."

The Daikaiju studied the photo, then carefully plucked it with the tips of his enormous claws.

A strange request. But I shall honor it, as a final mercy.

I turned to Little Shit one last time.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye..."

Little Shit's head snapped toward me. He squeaked and waddled forward, but the Daikaiju's claw gently blocked his path.

"Stay with your dad. You've got important kaiju stuff to do now. Growing up and... and all that."

Little Shit's squeaks grew more frantic. He tried climbing over the Daikaiju's claw, his tiny legs scrambling uselessly against it. Each squeak felt like a knife in my chest.

I turned and ran, ignoring the burning in my lungs and the volcanic ash stinging my eyes. Behind me, Little Shit's cries echoed through the containment zone, growing fainter with each step until they faded into the sound of my own ragged breathing.

I didn't look back. I couldn't. Because I knew if I saw those eyes one more time, I'd never be able to leave.

***

The Shibue Daikaiju watched as the human disappeared into the distance, footsteps fading away while his child's cries echoed through the containment zone. It picked up the rectangular paper the human had left behind, carefully unfolding it between its claw.

The image captured a moment near the sea - the human standing stiffly in a pink outfit, awkward but not entirely miserable. Another human had fallen face-first into the sand. Two others - one with glasses and another in some sort of uniform - were caught mid-laugh.

The Daikaiju's red eyes lingered on their faces. Such strange creatures, these humans.

It carefully folded the photo and slid it into a narrow crevice between its armor.

It is time.